


A Very Fiery Christmas

by Rhydeble



Series: Of Wasps and Wizards [3]
Category: Parahumans Series - Wildbow, The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Omake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:41:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23617663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhydeble/pseuds/Rhydeble
Summary: As Harry and his apprentice get ready to celebrate Christmas, someone knocks on their door asking for help.A few minutes later, the building is on fire.Takes place after Of Monsters and Masquerades. Canonical Christmas Omake.
Series: Of Wasps and Wizards [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1699945
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	A Very Fiery Christmas

The fire crackled in the hearth, and Mister purred on my lap, licking my hand clean.  
  
Pizza, I had to admit, wasn’t the best Christmas food, but it was easy, I was lazy, and I couldn’t convince my apprentice to cook without the proper tools.  
  
Outside, a snowstorm raged, blocking up my little window. The only one that actually cared was Mister, and even he was okay with staying inside in this weather. In the corner of the room, two spirits were resting. In front of Bob’s skull stood a stack of printed paper, as Lisa had told him about the wonders of internet fanfiction, and the amount of smut that could be found in there. Lisa herself was resting in her charging station, the only electronic device in the house.  
  
“So, Santa Claus?” Taylor asked, looking up from her book. She was bunched up on a ridiculously large chair she’d acquired a while ago, legs under her and a thick blanket covering almost everything. She was wearing her new lenses, tiny glowing runes blinking in and out of existence around her irises. Lisa’s idea, they’d acquired the raw materials from a Tinker somewhere through Tecton, and had gone to town casting magic on a bunch of fancy meta-materials.  
  
“Real,” I said, looking at the stockings hanging above the fireplace. A big woolen red and white one for me, one made out of spider-silk for Taylor, a Quidditch themed one for Lisa, (she was remarketing as a snitch, which was remarkably appropriate) and one covered with stitched pictures of naked ladies for Bob. Finally, there was a tiny stocking with cat ears embroidered on them, for Mister.  
  
“So who’s filling up the stockings?” she asked, seeing where I was looking, probably because of hair lice or something like that.  
  
“Santa helps those who help themselves,” I replied.  
  
“Which doesn’t really answer my question.”  
  
“Well, think about it, why do we leave milk, cookies and a carrot out?” I asked her, deciding to use the Socratic method to disguise the fact that I had no idea why Santa never brought me presents as a child.  
  
“Hmmm,” she replied, thinking about the conundrum.  
  
Done licking my fingers, Mister resettled, and I took the opportunity to grab my book. ‘A Christmas Carol’, by Charles Dickens, a beautiful story about how the rich needed to be scared into basic human decency by supernatural beings.  
  
While reading, I mentally changed the characters in the story. Scrooge became Johnny Marcone, and the ghosts of Christmas were different gangsters he’d wronged over the years. Eventually, after a visit from the ghost of christmas future, Marcone understood the true meaning of Christmas, and started sharing his drug money with his men.  
  
“It’s an invitation!” Taylor said. “The cookies, the milk, It’s an invitation for Santa to come visit. Without those, he wouldn’t be able to cross our threshold.”  
  
“Close, but no cigar. While mostly correct, Fae with good intentions that respect the laws of hospitality are able to cross thresholds without problem. I think.”  
  
“Oh,” Taylor said, sinking back into her chair “Then I think I’m out of ideas.”  
  
“To be fair, I don’t know either,” I admitted. “I was totally going to eat those cookies.”  
  
“Well, that explains why Santa never visits these days,” Taylor said. “All the grown men keep stealing his cookies.”  
  
I was about to protest, when someone knocked on the door thrice in quick succession. Slowly standing up, I looked at Taylor.  
  
“Who is it?” I asked.  
  
“One of the girls from upstairs, The Kaufmanns I think? Something German. I’ll check their house.”  
  
Standing up, brushing off an insulted Mister, I walked to the door and opened it, spotting the little girl, crying in front of the door.  
  
“Mista Harry?” the girl asked.  
  
“What’s wrong Susy?” I replied, crouching down to seem less imposing.  
  
“There’s something upstairs, it’s hitting mommy.”  
  
I looked back, and saw that Skitter had already donned her cape. Somehow, Ava had managed to get her hands on it and dyed it red, finishing the theme with a lining of fake white fur. Taylor wasn’t happy with it, but the colouring got everyone into a festive spirit when she was walking around, which was good for her popularity with the city.  
  
“Let’s go,” I said to her, grabbing my blasting rod and running up the stairs, leaving the little girl standing behind me.  
  
  
***A Very Fiery Christmas***  
  
  
The Kaufmanns lived on the third floor, their door still open, I heard Mister Kaufmann yelling. “Help!”  
  
Invite enough. I crossed the threshold, coming upon a dangerous scene.  
  
Mrs. Kauffrau was lying on the floor, bound with red and white tape, a christmas ball placed like a gag in her mouth. More gruesome however, was Mister Kaufmann, who was being assaulted by a fur-clad man with a whip, shouting “Naughty, naughty, naughty,” every time he hit.  
  
The monster, in the meantime, was being attacked by a handful of bugs, the snowstorm having greatly limited Taylors arachnid army.  
  
I brought up my empty right hand, regretting the fact that I brought my blasting rod instead of my staff. Fire probably wasn’t a good idea here.  
  
“Forzare!” I shouted, blasting the monster-man, whatever it was.  
  
It launched through the air, crashing into the christmas tree, and Taylor assisted me, double-teaming him with a “Sericum Funem,” yelled as she appeared behind him. She ran slightly slower than he did. Because although she was tall for a girl, he was event aller.  
  
As she casted, silk from her spiders merged with the tinsel in the tree, and what was probably ectoplasm, binding the creature to the pine tree.  
  
“No fair, no fair!” it yelled out, still trying to whip at the man.  
  
“You come in here and attack these people, and we’re not being fair?” Taylor said, already having an iron knife at the ready. My reliably stabby apprentice, always prepared for a fight.  
  
“They invited me! Told me to do my job!” it yelled. “It’s Belsnickel’s job to punish the wicked!”  
  
“Belsnickel?” I asked.  
  
“Don’t listen to it, it’s evil! It lies!” Mister Kaufmann said, hiding from it behind his couch, still sore from getting whipped.  
  
“I am of faerie, wizard,” the Belsnickel said. “I cannot tell a lie, you know this.”  
  
I looked at the guy, wearing old, rotten furs, his whip made out of ragged leather. He sure looked like a supernatural nastie, although he could still just be a really drunk hobo.  
  
“What do you think, T?” I asked, looking at my apprentice.  
  
“Well, it’s most definitely not Santa, but it looked magical to my bugs, bleeds ectoplasm,” she replied.  
  
“In other words, the only way it could be inside, was if it was invited in,” I said, looking at the Kaufmanns. Taylor had used an overly large spider to free Kauffrau from her gag, which had only made her more afraid.  
  
“In other words, it’s probably their lies,” Taylor said. “But I think there’s someone else we can ask.”  
  
I looked behind me, seeing little Susy following behind us, a scared look in her eyes.  
  
“Susy, what did your parents do?” Taylor asked her, trying to hide her bugs where she wouldn’t be scared off.  
  
“Mommy… Mommy and Daddy said that… that if I was naught, Belsnickel would come and whip me,” she said.  
  
“Thus, inviting him here,” I said, already not liking what was going on here. Belsnickel was trying to break free, attempting to get back to whipping the parents, and while I really disliked most of the nasties the never-never contained, I was pretty sure guys like Belsnickel actually were limited to attacking the naughty during Christmas.  
  
Of course, what exactly naughty meant in that context was probably horribly outdated, including things such as miscegenation, but the basic idea was there.  
  
“You have something to confess?” I asked, looking at the two adults in the room.  
  
“Don’t tell him anything Gerald,” the woman snapped at her husband. “We’ve done nothing wrong!!”  
  
The man just cried, hiding in his corner behind the bank. Belsnickel however, got even angrier.  
  
“Liar! Liar!” it yelled, breaking itself free of the tree, and lunging at the woman, having forgotten its whip.  
  
“Forzare!” I spoke, blasting the creature away. It wasn’t actually all that strong, magically speaking, and it flew straight into the wall behind him, crashing through it.I ran forwards after it, Taylor following by my side.  
  
For just a second, I thought I’d blown Belsnickel out of the building, as he was covered in thin white powder.  
  
Then, I noticed that that powder wasn’t exactly snow, and that most of it was wrapped and packaged. A white christmas indeed.  
  
“T, how the fuck did you not notice this?” I asked.  
  
“You told me to respect people’s privacy,” she said. “And the walls of this room are actually pretty new, well-insulated too.”  
  
“Well, time to hit two birds with one stone,” I said, raising up my blasting wand and gathering energy as Belsnickel was coughing from all the cocaine, still covered with tinsel and other festive decorations from Taylor’s spell.  
  
“You know what,” I said, looking at my apprentice. “You do the honours. Early christmas present.”  
  
I handed her my blasting rod, and saw her start gathering focus, pointing the rod at the Belsnickel. “Fuego!” she spoke, and a small fireball launched from the rod, hitting the Belsnickel, and catching the tinsel on fire. Problem solved.  
  
  
***A Very Fiery Christmas***  
  
  
The building was on fire, and it wasn’t my fault.  
  
It had been my apprentice’s fault, and I was very, very proud of her.  
  
“You said I should blast him!” she said, trying to deflect blame.  
  
“And I’m proud of you kiddo,” I replied, putting a hand on her bony shoulder. “Can’t make a wizard without burning a few buildings.”  
  
“What’ll happen to the Kaufmann’s?” Taylor asked.  
  
“They’ve probably already found the remains of the drugs,” I said, looking at the busy firefighters. I’d exhausted myself slowing down the fire, allowing everyone to get out, and making sure the building didn’t just go up into ashes. “So I’m guessing prison.”  
  
“And the girl?” she asked, looking at little Susy, sipping hot chocolate milk while covered with an emergency blanket, the cops talking to her parents in the background. “Seems horrible to spend Christmas with CPS.”  
  
I looked at our apartment building. The fire had mostly died down, and we’d probably be allowed back in quite soon. My hand disappeared in my pocket, and returned with a little ID-card from my boss.  
  
“Well, I guess we’ll just have to give her a Christmas Miracle then,” I declared, seeing a small smile appear on Taylor’s face.


End file.
